So, in preparation of their arrival Dullie anchored the boat by the ble rocks at the entrance of French Harbour lagoon and crawled back into his hole. Dullie waited, but they never came. A new judge took over and decided to dismiss the case as no one got hurt. On another occasion some custom officials came to French Cay to search Dullie’s boat, but he fired a couple shots at the whole crew and the Official told the captain to turn around and get the hell out of there because that guy was crazy.

On one occasion, the custom officials obtained a life boat belonging to Charlie Osgood who got it of the SS Snyg that ran agroAZund off Crawfish Rock in 1899. Upon arriving in French Cay, the officers attempted to confiscate Dullies boat and contraband. They were soon greater by the shouts of his booming voice: “the first man to step foot on this beachhead will be a dead son of a bitch.”

Dullie had the reputation of being a tough, but fair man. Another islander once said something about him behind his back one day and he found out. Dullie confronted this man about it saying — “admit it and live, or deny it and die” — to which the island man shuddered, admitted it and then apologized, Dullie let him go.

Someone opened fire through the window.

A few years later the family was going through a dispute regarding property. Two cousins involved were scared of him and what the outcome would be so, one day these two brothers, a friend and a cousin got together.

After drinking all morning, they saw Dullie casually walking down the street with his gun over his shoulder in a sack and accompanied by his 12 year old son Joe. Someone opened fire through the window shooting Dullie. It was January 28, 1935.

My dad Archie Jones always said he didn’t think the man who took the blame for the killing actually did it, as this man was near sighted and not a good shot with a rifle.

This man ran away to Belize to live and his brother soon followed him there with his family. The third cousin in the group was a boy of 15 who went away to work on the sea and joined the US merchant Marines. Forty years later, this boy retired back to Roatan and on his deathbed, he told his son and other family members that it was actually him who fired the gun that killed Dullie and not my cousin who took the blame.

He said this was the one act that he regretted his whole life. This man’s son and Dullie’s grandson turned out to be really good friends and drinking buddies. One day at Romero’s bar and restaurant the man’s son revealed his father’s death bed confession to his friend, Dullie’s grandson.

They both agreed it was water under the bridge and that it would not affect their friendship in anyway. They embraced each other with this promise. Dullie’s family could now find closure to this story. All persons mentioned in this article have since passed on.

Dullie’s ancestors were from Plymouth, Massachusetts dating back to 1752. They sided with the colonists and fought against the British for their independence. His grandfather was born around 1810 in Plymouth, Massachusetts arriving to Roatan around 1840.

Dullie was born in 1889, in French Cay, Roatan. During the start of World War I in Europe, there were some English soldiers stationed in Belize and some volunteers that were supposed to be shipped out to Europe. Dullie heard about this so he took a dory with a sail and sailed to Belize where he volunteered for the fight. The group was shipped to Jamaica B.W.I. and then on to battle fields of WWI. With a little training in Jamaica and Egypt before seeing action in France.

He came back up with two sticks of M-90 Dynamite.

He was captured at some point during the War and spent time in Kaiser Wilhelm jail as a POW. Upon the end of the War, they were shipped back to Jamaica, how many returned is unclear, but Dullie made it back. Some people said the war changed him, saying he was shell-shocked, now known today as PTSD.

He owned some property in the French Cay area, where he started farming and buying coconuts to make copra. He also opened a small store and raised his family. He obtained a small sailing boat that he would use to make trips to Belize and back bringing supplies for his store. The local officials said that he was smuggling.

He would arrive in French Cay at night. On one of these trips coming back the wind was not in his favor, by morning he only made it to the area, where the airport is today. He did not make it to French Cay during the night like before. The officials in Coxen Hole could see the boat out there, so they sent a captain and two soldiers out in a small power boat to intercept him. When they arrived they didn’t see anyone aboard so they started to call out – “is there anyone aboard?”

Dullie had gone below in the hold of the boat, he came back up with two sticks of M-90 Dynamite, one in each hand and both were lit. Dullie fired one of them at the boat, the captain saw this and turned the boat to avoid it causing it to land in the water next to them. This scared them causing them to flee.

As they were leaving, Dullie threw the second stick of dynamite at them. In a fright, when they arrived to Coxen Hole, they ran their boat’s bow aground on the beach where the public park is located today. The Captain was from Coxen Hole along with two soldiers. When they got back to land, they tried to tell the officials what had taken place, but all that was understood was gibberish because they were so scared.

Dark clouds loom over French Cay, threatening a squall as they move westward toward French Harbour. Walking west on the coral marl street parallel to the reef line, you notice the road occasionally meanders before gradually curving to the right near The Hill. As you continue, the impending squall begins to envelop your hometown from the east. Just before the street starts its curve, the squall overtakes you.

You dash for the nearest shelter – beneath Ms. Vera McLaughlin’s house, which is perched on short stilts. From this vantage point, you gain a clearer view and hear the commotion across the street, a scene that had piqued your interest just before the squall sent you running for cover.

The front yard of the house across the street is blanketed with halved coconuts – hundreds, maybe even thousands of them, each neatly split and mostly facing the sun. In a frantic rush, three adults and two children, all familiar faces, are flipping the coconuts to protect the white meat from the rain. You realize they could use some help, especially the two children from The Hill, who were likely enlisted by the adults simply because they were nearby.

The coconut meat was dried to create copra.

If you had been noticed earlier, you’d already be turning coconuts. But since you weren’t, you find yourself torn: return to the rain to help, or stay comfortably sheltered. Just then, Ms. Vera’s dog, Blanco, starts growling menacingly from her front porch above you. Sensing your presence, Blanco has made the decision for you. Off you go to turn coconuts.

The coconut meat was dried to create copra. Once it had lost all its moisture, shriveled, and turned a purplish color, the meat was scooped out of the shell and placed into large crocus sacks. These filled sacks were then stored in a dry location, typically a specialized ‘copra house,’ to await shipment.

Copra typically made its way to the United States, where it was processed into various products. It was shipped directly to the U.S. via large freighters operating out of La Ceiba. Copra from Roatan would be transported to La Ceiba on one of the small freight boats that regularly traveled to and from the mainland.

Two or three of these ‘copra operations’ were located in French Harbour, with additional facilities in some of the towns on Roatan’s south shore. Local harvesters would husk the coconuts and transport them by dory directly to the processing locations. In French Harbour, coconuts were primarily harvested from the ‘coconut walks’ on the Cays west of the town, including areas along the Lagoon, French Cay, and Ezekiel’s Cay—the latter of which has been the site of the Fantasy Island Beach Resort since the 1980s.

At times, for one of the French Harbour operations, coconuts were also collected at designated points around Roatan by a small motorboat making regular stops. The enduring image of this boat anchored off West Bay Beach, as locals paddled their dories out to it with coconuts to sell, has stayed with me for years.

The Overlooked Beauty of South-Mid Shore of Roatan

There are vertical rock formations, chimney like cliffs and abundant forests stretching from the island’s top ridge to the shore.

The long established and loved resorts like Fantasy Island, Coco View and Media Luna are there. The last undeveloped bight, never stain Bight, is here as well. A few have tried; none have succeeded in developing this gorgeous bight surrounded by forests.

There are kilometers of iron shore, mangroves and half a dozen little beaches. The south side of Roatan does have beaches and they are like little jewels scattered on the lush green of the island’s tapestry.

The eastern current keeps the water clean, Sea life more abundant and visibility is better here than many other places around the island. Snails cling on to the jagged Iron shore rock, the flying fish jumping front of passing boats. There are visiting whale sharks in early spring, and regular patrols by tarpon and sunfish.

In the distance local fishermen in wooden dories drop their lines looking for snapper and barracuda. Snowy egrets rest over pools waiting at an opportunity to snatch passing fish. As the day ends, the sun sets over the hills of Roatan. Its mid island blues.

Mr. Nelson Has Wisdom for All Ages

According to family records, Joseph Cromwell Jackson, Nelson’s grandfather and the founder of the Jackson families on Roatan came from Charleston, South Carolina just after the Civil War. One can sense the history looking into the eyes of Mr. Nelson. He is weathered, but nimble and he is full of energy.

At age ten, young Nelson started attending a local one-room school in French Cay run by Mrs. Minor Woods. She used “The Royal Readers” set of schoolbooks to teach the local children basic skills in reading and writing. “Who really taught me how to read and write was Mrs. Ora Webster,” remembers Mr. Nelson. Young Nelson only attended three grades of schooling, but “This is equivalent of what you get at graduation today.”

There were manatees living all over Roatan feeding on turtle grass

While most French Cay people gathered fresh water to drink from rooftops, when there was no rain, they had to walk a kilometer to the gully to fetch water. “We had a lot of hard work we were doing. We were very poor,” Mr. Nelson recalls about life in the 1930s. The only food stuffs brought in from the mainland was rice and people would gather coconuts to sell to La Ceiba where Standard Fruit Company reigned supreme. “We got [US] 60 cents for every 100 coconuts,” he remembers.

The island was full of large mammals: deer and sea cows were all around. There were manatees living all over Roatan feeding on turtle grass. “There was one living around Fantasy Island and another one by Jonesville,” remembers Mr. Nelson. “He nearly turned one boat over.”

In the 1940s there were two houses on the Little French Cay, five on the Big French Cay and five on Roatan proper across from the cays. There were just a handful of families living here: the Jacksons, Johnsons, Dixons, Woods and Lowells. In 1941 Mr. Nelson said goodbye to his older brother Roswell Jackson who enlisted in US navy and went off to fight the Germans in World War II. Young Nelson was too young and stayed behind. He only listened to the stories of his brother’s adventures on the beaches of Normandy.

At 22 Mr. Nelson married Nelly Dixon and devoted his time to farming and raising cattle. The couple had 11 children. In 1961 he went off to work on a tugboat in Jacksonville, Florida. He would go back and forth between his family and US for seven long years. Eventually he came back to Roatan and farmed some more. In 1971 Mr. Nelson picked another contract to run a boat between Palm Beach and the Bahamas.

After returning to the island Mr. Nelson for 33 years worked with Seth Arch at the French harbor dry dock as the dry dock supervisor. Mr. Nelson has a spiritual attitude about his long life. “[I live] with the mercy and the blessing of the Lord. Without Him you couldn’t live,” says Mr. Nelson.

Today Mr. Neslon is a valued family patriarch. He still farms and raises cattle on his French Cay property. He also cultivates banana plants, plantains, watermelon, tomatoes, beans, yams, cassavas, chickens. Mr. Nelson also looks after his 90 foot shrimp fishing boat ‘Cabo II’ and always ready to chat about the past.

Pirates careen a boat to do small repairs. Port Royal and its Careening Cay was perfect for such a job.

Local Talent of Turning Wood into Ships Dates Back Centuries

The history of boat building on Roatan is as long as the history of the island’s inhabitants. Paya Indians used to make large cayucos, dug out canoes up to 30 feet in length. These boats were used for turtling, fishing, and transport of goods & people.

In the 16th and 17th centuries pirates used to careen and fix their boats on the biggest of the Bay Islands. There was plenty of fresh water, game and fish to eat and the Paya Indians helped with cutting of wood for boat repair and shelter. Careening Cay in Port Royal was one such place. Roatan, and especially Port Royal, was full of 100 foot tall Honduran Pine trees. Two men were barely able to wrap their arms around them.

When the Spanish forcibly removed the Paya from Bay Islands in 1650 boat building on the island stopped for almost two centuries. Very few people lived on the island and boats would only occasionally stop by to replenish supplies of water and wild fruit.

According to the December 31, 1831 census count of the Cayman Population, the islands had 2,000 both white and black inhabitants. The black slaves outnumbered the whites 5 to 1 in the Cayman Islands and many plantation owners there were afraid following the events that shook Haiti in 1804 after France abolished slavery and the entire white population was massacred.

The Cayman Island slave owners were also offered land grant in the Bay Islands. Displaced white settlers were eligible for a three acre land grant and ex-slaves were eligible for one-acre land allotment from the British Crown. Dozens of Cayman islanders left for the virgin land south and began arriving on Roatan in 1831. By 1843, 24 White Cayman families arrived in the Bay Islands, most of them decided on Roatan and by 1855 a census showed 700 ex-Caymanians living in the Bay Islands Archipelago.

Lyonel Arch at his boat yard in French Cay. He has been building fiber glass boats since 1980’s.

All these islanders needed reliable boats and in 1840 Roatan’s first boat was built. According to Truman Jones, a Roatan shrimp boat captain and business owner, it was a 50’ schooner. In the 1800’s many other 40’-50’ schooners were build in French Harbour and Oak Ridge. In the late 1800’s a boat called Rubicon was built to transport copra from Roatan to the US. Some boats were meant to be used to travel between communities on Roatan: Oak Ridge, French Harbour and Coxen Hole. Other boats were built for journeys to places further like Belize or Honduran Coast. Some vessels were big enough, 100 foot or more, to brave the 1,000 mile passage to the US coast.

The first boat building families on Roatan were the Arches, Elwins, Coopers and Goughs. Henry Arch was a known boat builder in the Cayman Islands and he brought his skills and knowledge to Roatan. “Back then when the father was building a boat, the son was helping him,” said Jones. In 1900 a 100 foot boat called Racer was constructed in French Harbour. “She could carry one million coconuts,” explained Jones. Back in the day and even until 1960 many Roatan coconut groves would produce over 1,000 coconuts a week. Racer was build for the Roatan to US run, but her destiny led her to a Colorado reef north-west of Cuba where she ran aground in the 1940’s.

One of the more curious boat building commissions was a Mexican coast guard boat built on Roatan in 1910. The vessel, according to Truman Jones, was built by the Cooper family.

Oak Ridge harbor was bustling with activity in 1900. (1981 drawing by Ann Jennings Brown).

In 1941, a 90 foot Gwendolyn was built by Bob Forchie, a Roatan born son of a German-American immigrant. While Gwendolyn, commissioned by Winfield McNab was being build, a powerful hurricane hit French Harbour from the South-East. After the hurricane “we didn’t know if the boat was washed out or not,” said Jones. While the braces got washed out the boat stayed in place. Other parts of French Harbour weren’t so lucky: 20 houses, or nearly one-third of town, were destroyed.

In 1952 a 45 foot wood vessel called Mensajero was build to aid evangelization efforts of the Seventh Day Adventists in the Americas. Mensajero sailed towards Orinoco River.

In 1958, where Romeo’s restaurant now stands in French Harbour, a boat called MV Judy was built for Myrl Hyde. “All her ribs were built from Roatan wood: red mahogany and moho,” said Jones. The pieces had to be bent not cut to form the base for the hull of the vessel being constructed. “This was our first boat that we used for international cargo,” recalls Kern Hyde, who’s uncle, Hersel Elwin, build the boat. French Harbour townspeople came out to witness the launch of the MV Judy in April 1958 along with the architect and builder, Hersel Elwin and Cardy Elwin, Homer Wood and Charlie Thompson, Robie Woods, Irwin Jones, Cleary Dixon, Harry Dixon, Dick Dixon, the main carpenters. “Several days before the launch, the vessel was turned 45 degrees with the bow crossways the main road. The only wheels in town were a few wheel barrows and bicycles,” Kern Hyde remembers. “Signal was given to ‘release and pull’ and in a few minutes the Judy was off.” She transported cargo between US and Caribbean for many years.

Wood used in the ship building was Honduran pine

In 1965 Hersel Elwin build the first shrimp boat on Roatan. It was a 65 foot wood vessel christened Captain Ted. For the first few years islanders would sell their shrimps to American shrimp vessels fishing in the nearby waters. “The [Honduran] government didn’t care whose shrimp it was back then,” explained Jones. Around the same time Lloyd Cooper build another shrimp boat for Jack Abbott.

El Pato being built in Oak Ridge.

Hurricane Francelia damaged the island in 1969 and Fifi hit Roatan hard in 1974. “Back then we had no warning of hurricanes. We would see the water recede and then just got ready for the storm,” said Jones. In this days, boat travel was also a risky affair. “We would go to Caymans and we would get lost for days on the way there and even longer coming back.

Navigation was so bad,” remembers Lyonel Arch, a boat builder from French Key. The Arches are now into their fifth generation of boat builders on the island. It all started with Henry Arch who came to Roatan from Liverpool. His son Wilson Leo Arch continued to build boats on Ezekiel Cay now called Fantasy Island. “He build a giant wheel that six men would use to pull boats up to work,” remembers Sherman Arch, a boat builder in French Cay.

Wilson Leo Arch’s six sons continued his legacy. “I watched my father build boats and never seen him draw down a contract. His only contract was a handshake,” remembers Sherman Arch. “A man’s handshake was his bond.” Soft-spoken, with blue eyes and a gray moustache, Mr. Sherman is quintessentially what Roatan used to be – hard work and honesty.

A boat on the dry dock in Oak Ridge.

Wilson Leo Arch sold Ezekiel Cay to Albert Jackson in 1967 and Arch family boat building operation moved westward to French Cay. The timing was fortuitous as on September 2, 1969 a devastating hurricane hit Roatan from the south. “For eight hours it hammered the island. It devastated the entire south side,” says Sherman Arch recalling the massive category five hurricane. “She had more force than any hurricane before, or after.” Roatan got hit again in 1974 by Fifi and in 1978 by Greta, both coming on shore on September 12.

Sherman Arch, 64, has been working on building boats since he was nine. “I would work in the afternoon and go to school in the morning,” reminisces Mr. Sherman. In 1978 he build his first wood boat – Flamingo 1.There was plenty of wood used in the construction: mahogany, cider, Santa Maria,” remembers Mr. Sherman. We used to do sailboat repairs,” says Mr. Sherman. “That was their way of living. They had to buy boats or build boats.” “Over the years they even build entire boats about of mahogany when it was plentiful and not so expensive,” remembers Lyonel Arch. The wood construction eventually gave way to fiberglass. “I started doing fiberglass around 1980-81. It was at first just for myself,” remembers Mr. Lyonel.

It all started with Henry Arch who came to Roatan from Liverpool

Today the leafy mangroves of French Cay provide shade and a good anchor points for the dozens of semi-finished, and salvaged boat hulls. Sherman’s biggest project to date is a 67 foot long and 24 foot catamaran. What he really enjoys is building fast narrow boats, 37 foot Pangas are the optimum in speed and comfort. “You could go 50 miles an hour in it or faster,” says Mr. Sherman. He is building two small glass bottom boats and fixes up old boats, like a neglected Boston Whaler. His boat yard is full of dozens of hulls, boats in different states of construction. “The materials are cheaper in the States. Here the government wants to rip you off,” says Mr. Sherman who’s current favorite boat he built is Miss French Cay a 36 foot boat with eight foot beam that he takes fishing and patrolling for poachers at night.

Oak Ridge was a boat building center run by the Coopers since mid XIX century. “There was a wood shop to mill the wood – pine, Rosita and mahogany that came from Mosquito Coast,” says Mrs. Cooper. The Roatan oak was used mostly for planking. Roatan grown sun-wood, one of the toughest woods around, was also used. The Coopers came from England via Jamaica, Cayman Islands and Belize and eventually settled on a Cay across from Coxen Hole. As John and Thomas Cooper were into boat building they looked for a more suitable place to build boats and found it on the other side of the island in Oak Ridge. “Calabash Bight had the Cooks and Greenwoods, in Fidler’s Bight it was the Boddens, Oak Ridge it was the Coopers and the Goughs and Jonesville had the Joneses,” says Oak Ridge’s Jessie Cooper, now 93, remembering the old days. She remembers when the Oak Ridge dry dock was used to do boat modifications. In one such refitting a boat called Albert was cut in half and extended 10 feet.

Most of the wood used in the ship building was Honduran pine. Mahogany was used for interiors. The boat building was a matter of trust. “You could mail a letter in US and it would get in French Harbour in six days,” says Truman Jones. There were no banks and one would give cash to a boat-crew for them to purchase engines and boat equipment in the US and bring it back with the next transport. It took about a year to complete a boat. The caterpillar motors would arrive via boat and would be fitted onto the hull.

Some from the younger generation of boat builders are also leaving its mark on the tradition of boat building on the island. Darcy Martinez is another Roatan boat builder who has made molds of the Edwardoño hull, a quality Colombian boat maker. “My boats are different than the Edwardoño. We don’t put as much reinforcement in them,” says Martinez who operates a boat building business in French Harbour. “Martinez boats are built well, they hold their value,” says Autie McVicker, owner of Mango Creek Lodge in Port Royal, who owns seven boats built by Martinez. “He produces quality product without any of the technology available in the US. If he had that he could compete with anybody.” The next generation of Arches is not quite jumping into the boat building business. “They like to use them, but they don’t like to build them,” says Mr. Sherman Arch.